Imaldu
by Zealak Silverdirk
Summary: A shrew and a badgermaid are dragged along in a quest for Imaldu's uncle, Boar the Fighter, with a band of shrews in their wake. Meanwhile, a great horde makes its way through Mossflower, intent on capturing the legendary Redwall Abbey.
1. Chapter 1

_**Imaldu**_

**Prologue**

The beauty of the woodlands surrounded the giant badger, summer was well on it's way to Mossflower. Breathing deeply the delicious smells of rich loam and dead leaves settled on the forest floor, he smiled. It was good to be alive on such a glorious day.

Although his younger seasons had long since passed, he remembered them and treasured them like precious stones from the earth's core.

Eyes beginning to droop in the midday heat, the badger found a spot between two large tree roots and drifted into a slumber filled with memories.

* * *

He remembered his favourite spot, at the top of a hill, facing the ocean's great swells. The sun would just be setting as he sat there, thinking through things. It had always been a quiet place where he could think, without the other young badgers disturbing him.

He had always seemed different from others of his kind. He did not enjoy the company of babes, there crying was incessant and annoying, yet he listened to his elder's old stories, though they were mostly legends of old times long passed. He didn't wrestle, but he hacked trees with his large battle axe, which he had inherited from his father, who had died when he was a season old.

The badger had never learned the cause of the death, but that was of little importance to him at the time.

He had always wanted to get away from the island, it was too boring and plain, yet he wanted to stay, seeing as it was his home. His chosen friends and all his family were there, but that still hadn't changed his constant wishes for the chance to travel.

One summer's eve, when he was but ten seasons old, he watched a ship sailing away into the deepening sunset, stained with coral and cherry pink and different shades of lavendar, the ocean reflecting the fiery orb for miles. The young 'un waved to a creature on the vessel, who waved back.

Silently, the young badger vowed one day to leave the island. He waved goodbye to his uncle Boar, until the ship was lost to sight beyond the distant horizon.

**Chapter I**

"Imaldu, are you up there?" one of his chosen friends called as she dashed headlong to her friend's favourite slope. Ever since his unlce had left, she could always find him up here, thinking about something or other.

"No, I fell into the ocean," Imaldu yelled back sarcastically. At least he had not lost his sense of humour while he was up here.

Imaldu, a very soliatary creature, had grown since Boar had left. Perhaps too much to enjoy the comforts of the island.

He was taller than most males his age, which was unusual, since his father and mother were only average height. His face was jet black, save for the white stripe from muzzletip and around to the back of his neck, where it faded to gray then returned to black.

In short, he was fairly normal, though his soft hazel eyes were a sight to behold. Even the pickiest of badgermaids swooned when they looked into his eyes. Hilira was no exception, but she didn't tell Imaldu that.

Quickly reaching her old friend, Hilira sat beside him on the green-topped hill. "Very funny. Still thinking about it?"

She was talking about Imaldu's plans of leaving the island, something that had grown from a vow of his younger days, to a gnawing obsession.

"Oh, I'm still thinking, no doubt about it. But I did solve our transportation problems for the trip," the male badger answered.

"How, oh wise friend of mine?" Hilira replied mockingly. She enjoyed poking fun at the solemn badger every now and then. It helped him sink back into reality, if only for a short time.

"I won't tell you if you keep that up," Imaldu grumbled, letting her know that she was pushing it.

"Okay, okay." Hilira held up her paws disarmingly. "So... how are you going to do this?"

Imaldu said but one word. "Guofs." It wouldn't mean anything to any normal creature, but, as said before, Imaldu was anything but that.

"You mean _the_ _G_uerilla _U_nion _o_f _F_lotsam _S_hrews?"

"The very same. They come over every summer, so what's to stop us stealing a boat?" Imaldu crossed his arms, and looked up at the female badger slyly.

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that _we'd get our tails kicked into the middle of next season_!" Hilira almost shrieked, sarcasm playing along the edges of her angry proclamation.

Clamping his paw over Hilira's mouth, Imaldu placed a paw to his lips, issuing silence as he tried to shut up his near hysterical friend. "Be quiet or one of elderbeast might hear your wailing. And you know what that means."

"I still think it's a bad idea, Imaldu. The Guofs will be furious and we'll be shunned for the rest of our lives from here, but... I'll go if you'll lead the way, you haven't been wrong yet and I trust you," she replied, almost grudingly to her friend.

Nodding his striped head in satisfaction, the scheming badger filtered his plans through Hilira concerning the quest across the sea. There were things to be done and more planning before summer would arrive.

_To be continued...__

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_

_Hurray, a revised addition of the first chapter! I'm so excited. What do you all think of it? It's got to be better than what it was before, but I'm still looking for opinions._

_Zealak Silverdirk_


	2. Chapter 2

Imaldu

Chapter II

The days of spring passed with the two badgers planning for the escapade. They were never seen at mealtimes anymore (which consisted of the whole tribe eating with each other), because Hilira was able to sneak off with food from the kitchen house. This day, the last day of spring, was no exception.

Hilira staggered under the amount of food she had piled onto a platter. Enough (as 'tis usually said) to feed a score of hares for a season. Nearly dropping the large plate twice, she just barely prevented the fallfor a thirdtime. Slumping beside her best friend, Hilira grabbed a small loaf of honeyed nut bread, and set to with a will.

"I see you didn't manage to drop the food like _last_ time, Hilira," Imaldu smirked as he carefully lifted a wedge of cheese, which was keeping most of the food balanced, from the bottom.

"Well I don't think you could have done any better,"Hilira shot back.

Grunting angrily, Imaldu knew she was right. He could be very clumsy at times. He considered saying something back as he bit into the cheese, until he sighted a blur out of the corner of his green eyes. "Hey, Hilira. What's that over there?"

Having the keener eyes of the two, Hilira squinted slightly as she peered into the distance. Then she asked an off-topic question. "Imaldu, you've got all the plans ready, right?"

"Of course, why?"

"Because," she said, taking a deep breath, "the Goufs are already here!"

"_What!_ But that means we'll have to stock up on food soon, and the cooks will be in the kitchen house almost full time, trying to feed five-score other hungry creatures," Imaldu groaned.

"Don't worry, we'll think of something," Hilirareplied, a note of hope in her voice.

As both watched the nearing vessels, they seemed peaceful enough, but inside, they were racking their brains furiously for an answer.

* * *

Being tall for his age, Imaldu was always admired by the females. Thank goodness his best friend, Hilira never seemed to care. She was the average kind of badger, in height, appearance (as all females seemed to look the same, except for stripedetails) and girth.

Imaldu was definitely not one to point out the faults of another creature (like sensitive beasts), which was one of the reasons why he was so greatly admired. But he hated it. He never felt happy with other badgers following him around, complimenting him. It made the quiet badger embarrassed to be compared to his so-called _wise_ kind. Today was no different.

It was a requirement for all members of the island (save the cooks) to assist the shrews with the loading of timber and weapons (from an underground forge; few badgers having personal weapons), and to help the shrews with repairs. In short,shrews were a full-time job.

The female badgers, and even some of the shrews followed Imaldu about the encampment, tittering and whispering among themselves. The tall badger growled inwardly, listening to the compliments dropped here and there.

"He's such a big an' strong badger, I bet 'e could carry this whole tribe on 'is back fer three seasons."

"That's nothing! Imaldu could probably carry the largest trees on this island and twelve-score o' your vessels, and still have enough strength to battle five overgrown sharks!"

"Will you all stop! I can't have five minutes peace without any of you clinging to me like moss on a log!" Imaldu growled, his eyes becoming tiny slits in his head.

"_Ooh_! Imaldu has a temper."

Whirling on the unfortunate shrew, he thrust his angry face into her's, causing tears to pop into her eyes. His voice a deep snarl of rage, Imaldu vented outhis anger through his words. "I am sick and tired of all of you! You call yourselves intellegent badgers or shrews, and what d'you do? You walk around following anybeast and won't think a bit about anything else! Get your own lives, and leave me out of them!"

With a swing of his battle axe, he sent shrews and badgers skittering away as they clambered to avoid the lethal blade.

Closing his eyes and dropping his weapon, Imaldu slumped to the ground, a howl of shame escaping his lips. Tears came unbidden to his eyes at his hypocrisy. He had almost needlessly killed friendly creatures, just because his rage had got the better of him. Now that he thought about it, he was just as dumb as them for pulling off a stunt like that.

As he glimpsed Hilira approaching, a thought hit the crying badger like a huge breaker. If he took Hilira with him, she might be dead before the journey was over.

"Imaldu, I heard what happened. Why'd you do it?" his best friend crouched before him, wiping his eyes with a blue kerchief.

Imaldu sighed mournfully and spoke. "You can't come with me. Imagine what I would do to my best friend if you got me angry."

Sitting there, stunned, Hilira watched her badger friend trundle off, to where, she couldn't even tell.

_To be continued..._

* * *

Yeah, this one is a little longer with more detail. Thanks for theadvice **Ermine **(the first reviewer),hope this chapter was better than the last one.

Anyway, keep the reviews comin' people.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III

Sitting up in the high, thick bows of a massive oak on the other side of the island since that morning, Imaldu mulled over his predicament. He couldn't bring his best friend along, the shrews probably hated him, andhe knew he'd never make it off the island.

'If only, there was someone who could come with me', Imaldu sighed, knowing this could not be so. If he was to take the journey, it would have to be alone.

Twigs crackling on the forest floor brought the badger to immediate attention. Searching through the tree foliage, he saw a shrew, male by the facial features. Staying silent, Imaldu watched the shrew as it began to approach his hiding spot.

"Hey you! Why don't you stop sneaking around!" Imaldu called down.

"Who says I'm sneakin'?" the shrew replied toughly, glancing about to and fro, looking for his pursuer.

"I'm up here. Anyway, as I was saying, you sure look like your sneaking. Why?"

"Yer elderly council folk tol' me to come get ye. You can come down outta there, stripey."

"I'm a badger, thankee," Imaldu corrected, slowly climbing down the tree.

"Ooh, pardon me sirrah. I feel so bad I insulted ye," the shrew sneered as he mocked Imaldu.

"Don't make me hurt you like I almost did those maids," Imaldu growled warningly.

"Aye, defenseless as they were," the shrew mumbled.

Knowing that his temper would easily rise if this shrew continued "debating" as their kind called it, the badger turned the conversation in a happier direction.

"I am Imaldu. What name do you go by, friend?"

"Ah'm Krewdy. Steersbeast of the head Goufs vessel," the shrew replied, offering his paw.

Shaking the proffered paw warmly, Imaldu took a liking to the small, yet fierce beast.

An idea suddenly forming in his mind, Imaldu casually asked," Krewdy, would you like to go on a sea venture with me?"

"Sure, Imaldu. Why?" the shrew tilted his head slightly as he asked the question.

Knowing that he could trust this beast, Imaldu told him the flat-out truth. From start to finish, until he brought the shrew up-to-date. Smiling hopefully at Krewdy, Imaldu waited for a reply from the shrew.

"Hmm... well, that's a bit of an issue. Log a Log allus used to want a steersbeast to 'ave no strings attached to the job, meanin' no wife or shrewlets, so's we'd be available at any time o' need. But I don' think 'e'd mind."

"There's just one _teeny, tiny_ issue, Krewdy. We'll need to use one of your crews' vessels, as we only had one boat on the island, and that was when Boar left."

Sucking air sharply through his teeth, the shrew screwed his face up in concentration. A short while passed when he snapped his pawclaws and smiled brightly. "Well, Imaldu. We've gotta steal the head Goufs vessel, and food, but I'm good with boats and I'm sure you could sneak food somehow. Other than that, it's all good."

"That's great to hear. Why don't we leave in about three days time, so I can stock up on food?"

Shaking paws to seal the deal, the duo walked slowly back, talking of the soon to come trip.

* * *

The elders of the island were sitting on rush mats spread out on the floor. Strolling leisurely over to an unoccupied mat, Imaldu sat quietly, waiting for them to dish out his punishment.

"What you have done, Imaldu, is a disgrace to our kind. You not only put the lives of our badger maids in danger, but our friends the shrews too? What's gotten into you?" the head elder, Makonn glared.

"I am sorry for what I did, but can you blame me? Being followed around all day by maids with not even a tiny bit of evidence of a brain can make one very tense, you know," Imaldu commented.

"We did not ask for your cheek young 'un. For this display of behaviour to the shrews, your axe..." Makonn beckoned Imaldu over with a wrinkled paw.

"You would die before you could lay a paw on my axe!" Imaldu growled, his temper rapidily rising.

Signaling to two tough, sinewy badgers standing guard at the hut entrance with a flick of his paw, Makonn expected the badgers to grab Imaldu and knock him unconsious. What he didn't expect to happen, Imaldu saw the hand gesture and quickly turned to face the guards. Slamming his huge paws into their faces, the quick badger sent them to the ground, rubbing aching skulls as he dashed off.

"Something must be done about that badger," Makonn grumbled to the badger seated next to him.

* * *

The next few days involved Imaldu taking humungous portions of food at mealtimes. Eating a small amount and saving the rest for Krewdy and the journey provisions, they were soon ready to head out to sea. He was just finishing off a chunk of bread when Hilira (still mad at him) stood behind him.

"What's all the food for?" she asked suspiously.

"For my shrew friend. You know how hungry shrews can get," Imaldu replied, whisking away the matter.

"One shrew, eating all that? Why would he be so hungry what's he been doing?"

"Helpin' me chop firewood. If you'll kindly leave me to bring a meal to my friend, I'd be most appreciative," he answered as he tried to slip past Hilira.

Side-stepping, Hilira blocked his path. "You're not leaving here until I get the truth, Imaldu," she commanded sharply.

Peering to his left he shouted, "Hey look! Isn't that Gruhn!"

Turning her head for just a second, gave Imaldu enough time to shove her out of his way. Not stoping to see what became of his old friend, the badger held the tray as steadily as he could, considering he was running fast.

As Imaldu watched his shrew friend gobble down a turnover and swig down some damson wine, he listened.

"We've now got enough fer your venture, Imaldu. We should probly leave afore daybreak tomorrer," Krewdy explained as he finished swallowing the hasty snack.ugh fer your venture, Imaldu. We should probly leave afore daybreak tomorrer," Krewdy explained as he finished swallowing the hasty snack.

Carrying the extra food in a sack, they snuck through the shrubbery until they reached the small hidden bay where the vessels were moored. Climbing aboard, both creatures stowed the food in the cabin of the head vessel. Sniffing the salty air, Imaldu felt every bone in his body tingle with excitement at his upcoming adventure.

As his mind began to wander, Imaldu heard the sharp crackling of twigs. Turning his head in the direction of the noise, the badger soon saw a fleeting shape through the trees. Krewdy hopped up on deck soon after. Silencing the shrew with a look he pointed to the trees close to where the ship was anchored. Blinking his eyes as a sign of acknowledgement, Krewdy slipped into the shallows, helping Imaldu pull up the anchor as silently as possible.

The vessel began to drift slightly, and wielding paddles, the duo pushed the boat into the sea current, and soon the island grew small. Forcing the thought of the pursuer from his mind, the badger felt true happiness for once in a long time. Imaldu watched the only place he had ever known, as itbecame a small speck, then disappeared altogether.

_To be continued..._

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Hope this is a good chapter. Again, I thank you for your help **Ermine**. Other reviewers would be a nice change from one reviewer though.

Happy reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

The boat had drifted quite far in the past few hours, all about them was water and, well, more water. Blinking the salty spray from his eyes, Imaldu prepared a meal for himself and Krewdy. Taking a portion fruit salad and a flask of pear cordial, Imaldu set them down beside his friend as he operated the tiller. Licking his lips at the sight of food, Krewdy tied off the tiller rope through a hole in the seat, which was made just for that purpose. Attacking the food and drink with a vigour that belied his small form, he sent tender lettuce leaves and drops of cordial flying.

"Mmm! This's the best salad I've ever tasted! Even this cordial's pretty good, though I think I like damson wine better," Krewdy showered Imaldu with pieces of salad, even eating didn't seem to stop his friend from talking.

After wiping his face off and taking a sip at from the flask, Krewdy went back to his duties as Imaldu brought the cordial in the cabin, and washed out the fairly large bowl of finished salad.

Knowing that Krewdy could probably handle the ship on his own, Imaldu sank into his thoughts.

What had come over him to strike out at the badger guards, and even threaten to _kill_ the chief elder, just because they wanted his axe? Maybe he just wasn't cut out to be part of the tribe. He had heard that badgers usually were loners, because they didn't enjoy many others about them.

'But those are male badgers,' he reminded himself in the same instant. 'If only I wasn't so quick tempered.' Something he hadn't thought about for a few days since the time hit him like a slap. Hilira! His only good friend, and he dropped her from the quest like a hot scone. Memories piled up in his mind at the fun they used to have together. Sad regret and self-disappointment showed plainly on his face. He had promised her about the trip, and then he just flicked her away. Too many thoughts to count whizzed by in his head.

His eyes began to droop, even though he wasn't that tired. 'Must be the heat,' was his last thought before the realm of dreams took over.

* * *

_Vermin of all kinds scattered before his axe. The bloodwrath (which he had vaguely heard of) seemed to radiate full force from him. He could barely see the weasels, rats, ferrets and stoats that he felled with mighty sweeps of his axe._

_Ploughing through the vermin, he guessed he might have even trampled a few as he ran. The horde of beasts soon thinned and he was facing a fox. A swirling cloak of mice fur and shards of amber sewed to it, added to the impressive nature of the vermin leader. _

_Showing no signs of fear as Imaldu came closer, the black-furred fox drew out a mace of incredible size. The mace came closer to his face as the bdager yelled out in surprise._

Suddenly, he was back in the cabin, though he was sprawled about the floor with a chair leaning against his face. Krewdy was standing worriedly over him.

"You alright matey? You were screechin' yer 'ead off so I came to see what the matter was. You were rollin' all over the floor, shoutin' that you were comin' after a fox. I didn't wanna get crushed so I tried to trap you under the bed with that chair that 'it ye. Must 'ave 'urt greatly, after you hit yer block off it like that," Krewdy explained.

"It does hurt... alot," Imaldu winced as he rubbed at the lump on his forehead.

"You might make it worse if ya keep doin' that," Krewdy scolded.

Rolling his eyes, Imaldu walked back on deck, lightly touching the bruise. He knew it would go away soon, as being clumsy can help you learn how long the hurts would last. Sitting by his friend at the tiller, Imaldu couldn't resist asking any longer. "Do you know anything about a black fox, with a mice fur cloak, an' a huge mace?"

Staying silent for a moment, Krewdy twitched his snout sourly. "Sadly, yes. He came and raided around our summer campsite a few seasons back, took me an' six others as 'ostages. They said somethin' about showin' the way to the magic sword. They meant Redwall Abbey. Vermin are allus makin' up stories. That's what they sometimes refer Redwall to. Like I was sayin', they wanted us to take them to Redwall, but we were rescued by a hoard of otters returnin' from one o' their summer celebrations. Why?"

"Because I had a dream about a black fox, with a huge mace and an army. I don't know much else about it, save that it looked like I was going to get killed by the fox," Imaldu shrugged. "By the way, I was doing some thinking earlier, and I figured out that I've sorta... got a bit of a problem. I always get to aggressive around others. You have suggestions?"

"You could always take a deep breath, think about what your going to do, and see if you'll have any regrets," Krewdy replied.

"Do you ever use that idea?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"We have a good enough system already."

Smiling inwardly, Imaldu added, "Uhh, the tiller?"

"Oh yeah! Thanks for remindin' me!" Krewdy raced around the other side of the cabin, then backagain.

"We've got a problem!"

"What?" Imaldu asked, looking at his friends worried face.

"We're bein' followed!"

_To be continued..._

* * *

It's not a very long chapter, but I'm trying to make this more interesting. Thank you for your reviews, I tried to take some of your advice, as I am trying to make my first story (not poem) a good one.

Thank you for all your help! )


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V

After Imaldu had left, the shrews had begun to be very edgy. Keeping away from the badgers as much as they could. Mealtimes were the only exception due to the fact that they would be showing disrespect to the badger tribe and they did not want to lose such a good alliance.

Log a Log conversed with Makonn in hushed tones.

"Your large badger has upset my Goufs, Makonn. What do you plan to do about it?" Log a Log sat, pensively chewing on a slice of onion and carrot pastie.

"There is not much we can do. He has already sailed off with your shrew steersbeast," Makonn pointed out.

"Don't remind me. If that Krewdy gets back 'ere I'll... Well, I'll think of something good enough!"

"Shh, not so loud. Anyway, Imaldu must learn these lessons on his own. If we bring him back and try to force our rules down his throat, he might be inclined to kill."

"Not that he already hasn't tried," Log a Log mumbled under his breath.

* * *

"Bring more firewood. My seer must have a good blaze going." Zrunduul ordered. Rats and weasels hurried to do his bidding. The black fox had always figured that rats and weasels were not the smartest vermin, so they were left to do the hardest tasks, with the exception of his seer, a rat. Ferrets and stoats were among the fox's higher ranking officers, while he was the only fox. 

Smirking, the black fox reveled in his position. It had not taken him long to go from travelling across the land to survive, to finding a lost horde and claiming them for his own. It was almost too pitiful to believe that a whole horde had lost three leaders in four seasons, after trying constant times to destroy either Redwall Abbey or Salmandastron. Without their old seer, the horde would have never wandered into the fox's newly claimed territory; a small pine grove.

Rudely interupted from his thoughts, Zrunduul slowly turned his head and gazed calmly at a rat who was muttering near a fire. Tossing shells, pebbles and twigs into the air, Frul grunted quietly as she noted the positions the objects fell.

"What do the omens say, Frul?"

"The blackened shell represents you, and the two small pebbles behind show the two thousand hordebeasts you command. This upright cockle shell represents the badger mountain, and this piece of hardened red clay symbolizes-"

"Redwall Abbey," the fox finished.

"Yes my liege, but who is the seer?"

"I am sorry that I have upset you Frul. Please accept a wood pigeon egg for your troubles."

Zrunduul only treated the rat in the kindly manner due to the fact that she was the only seer he had out of the horde. Being one to take omens seriously, the black fox did not want to kill or to offend the seer, as finding another on short notice was unwise.

"As I was saying," Frul continued,"the sticks that have fallen from the black shell, you, to the hardened clay, Redwall Abbey, is the path that you must take."

"The zig-zagging path will lead me to gain extra hordebeasts. Am I right Frul?"

The ancient seer could see Zrunduul stroking the large mace handle tucked into his belt, so she decided quickly to tell him what he wanted to hear.

"Yes, sire. Though the land could be treacherous, as my visions have told me, that is where future hordebeasts lie."

"Visions? What visions? You have told me nothing of this until now. If you do not give me the proper answer to such a violation of my authority, you will be _severly _punished. Do I make myself clear?"

"Certainly, sire Zrunduul. I had only had the vision late at night, but all that I told you was what I saw," Frul whimpered.

"Lying makes me very,_ very_ angry Frul. Do not lie to me further or you could find yourself left behind," Zrunduul growled softly.

Knowing that Zrunduul could do no such thing if he wanted advise, she quickly pointed this out. "But you know you cannot kill me, for who will give you advise such as I have?"

Seemingly about to turn away from his seer, Zrunduul suddenly whipped back around and struck Frul across the face. Clapping a paw to her right cheek, the seer scrambled back a few paces from her unpredictable captain.

"Insubordination will not help you in the long run, seer! Be glad I spared your life." Zrunduul slipped away from the wounded seer, cursing the day he had found such an incompetant horde.

* * *

Sure enough, Krewdy's eyesight proved correct. A large vessel was rapidly overtaking them. 

"What should we do, Krewdy? You're the shrew," Imaldu turned his gaze over to the shrew.

"I'm ain't too certain what to do. Maybe we could pull away from the ship, but they might follow us anyways, so our best bet would probably be to wait for 'em to get close enough, you know, see what's goin' on."

"That sounds as good an idea as any. I'm all for it if you are," Imaldu shrugged.

"Jus' let it be noted that whatever happens, you had an equal share in the outcome," Krewdy replied.

"Fair enough."

Imaldu could only say that waiting for that vessel to come at them with whatever occupants it contained was almost too much to bare. Not being able to do a single thing about their possible fate. The ship could contain searats or corsairs, blood-thirsty and ready for prisoners. These dreadful thoughts could not be shaken from his mind.

Krewdy, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem at all. Although he did not look back in the direction of the ship, the shrew just kept busy tending to the sails; searching for possible tears in the fabric.

As the great vessel bumped against the side of their craft, the badger instictively looked up. Searching along the deck railing, he quickly spotted a pair of green eyes watching him. Ducking behind the rail, the creature disappeared.

"Hey you! Get back here and show your face if you aren't afraid to!" Imaldu called above the ocean waters.

"You yourself, sah! T'ain't good manners to yell like that to your elders 'n betters!" the creature, obviously a hare by their speech, replied indignantly.

"What makes you think you have the right to say such things to me, when you were spying on us not a minute ago?"

The hare reappeared over the railing, about to give the badger a stern lecture. But upon seeing Imaldu, he soon changed facial expressions completely; to one of embarrassment. "So sorry. My 'pologies to you."

"What's goin' on out there, Varc?" a second voice called.

Another figure, most likely a mouse peered down at the badger from the other boat. "You'll have to excuse Varc. But we'll mind that later. Would you not like to come aboard, 'stead of gettin' seaspray whipped at you?"

Peering over at Krewdy, Imaldu waited for a reply.

"Why not? We could use some comp'ny!" the shrew called back.

Tying an extra piece of rope from the deck onto the mast, Krewdy threw the rest up to the hare, who easily tied a large, thick knot onto a large section of railing. Easily hauling himself up by the rope, Imaldu's friend looked down at him expectantly. Shrugging unhappily, Imaldu indicated that he could not climb such a thin piece of rope. Rolling his eyes, the mouse standing by the one named Varc, tossed a rope ladder down to the badger. With a considerable amount of effort, Imaldu struggled to keep his balance on the side of the swaying ship.

Finally aboard, Imaldu spoke. "Thank you for the help. I am not one too fond of water."

"Well, neither were we when we started. Varc was one of the worst, weren't ya Varc?"

"Speak for yeself, sah. I was merely one who did not appreciate getting one's paws wet," Varc replied huffily.

"Sure you were. Anyway, all of us aboard know the real truth, so stop tryin' to gain admiration from our badger friend."

Looking for an easy way out, the hare soon changed the subject. "As you've already heard from Tyreck, I am Varc."

"He already said my name, so I won't repeat it. What d'you call yourselves?" Tyreck asked.

"I'm Krewdy, an' that striped mountain over there is Imaldu," Krewdy explained.

"You'll probably want to hear our story of how we got here, but that can best be told over a good steamin' meal. Follow me an' flopears here."

The duo strolled behind the hare and mouse and chuckled when they sawVarc scowl darkly at Tyreck when he wasn't watching.

_To be continued..._

* * *

Sorry I haven't updated in so long, I've been busy writing another story, which I might post later on. Thanks for your help with my story, and I hope this chapter will make up for my lack of updating.

Thanks for reviewing!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI

"We are the last of a large band of merchants. There were at least six other ships that came into the old dock near the Dunehog dwellings. The Dunehog tribe has lived in their sandhills long before any of our grandsires walked the land. It was said that a few seasons after we left Martin the Warrior had passed through the sands," Tyreck explained.

"True, true. We had also lived in the sand dunes along with the Dunehogs, until we were driven out by the black fox," a fat hedgehog wife named Trillia quickly added as she laddled them all another portion of Fish Stew. It tasted alot better than it sounded, Imaldu soon realized, and began spooning it down at an alarming rate.

"Whoa, slow down there matey! Don't eat it too fast, doesn't agree with your stummick well iffen you do keep it down," Krewdy advised.

Deliberately slowing down, Imaldu was soon chewing and swallowing as slow as if he were trying to make a meal of a boot.

"I didn't mean that slow," the shrew grumbled around a mouthful of the stew.

"Not to seem rude, ma'am, but what's in Fish Stew, besides fish?"

"Oh, there's a whole bunch of ingredients in there, old lad," Varc began before Trillia. "Lesse, there's salmon, trout, bass, we even found some haddock to put in the mix. Then, ye've got your hotroot pepper -kin be absolutely vile stuff, wot- with fish, even crab and lobster meat. Then you add a good amount of mashed potato and carrot, and, if you feel the need, you can add the typical dark, rich gravy."

"'E knows about everythin' that goes on in the kitchens, mostly 'cause he eats it all, the fat ole feedbag," Tyreck whispered, just loud enough for Imaldu to hear.

"What's that? Speak up, wot! If ye've got a mind to whisper important things at table, be kind enough to share it with the rest of us, hmmm?" Varc cut in.

"No, no, 's'not that important," Tyreck replied cheekily.

"Why you young rip! I have a mind to throw you overboard!"

"Oh, please, spare me Varc. You wouldn't get two meters in the _Fish Shack_ widdout me," the mouse sneered.

"Hmph! Ain't got the bally descency to let one finish one's stew without interruptin' their feed time. Bad form, I say, wot!"

* * *

Sitting underneath a large pear tree, Abbot Murto (the first mole ever to be an Abbot) enjoyed the beautiful summer day that had been bestowed upon them. _Ahh, my beautiful Abbey. I would not leave here for- _

His thoughts were soon interrupted by a large crowd of Dibbuns heading his way. Murto stood up quickly and a second later, dozens of the Abbeybabes trampled across where his footpaws had just been. Breathing a huge mixed sigh of resignation and relief, he sat back down again.

Just then, a small, chubby-cheeked squirrel ran by, right over Abbot Murto.

"Hey, you get back here Rookuj! Steppin' all over the Abbot like that'll ensure you get another good wash after supper!" A black squirrel just reaching his adolescent years bolted past, shouting threats of tail-chopping and getting baked in the ovens.

"Hiikol!" This one word sent the black squirrel pounding the earth back to the Abbot.

"Yes Abbot Murto?" Hiikol replied, rocking back and forth on his heels anxiously.

"I know you are only trying to get the Dibbuns to learn a lesson, but why not try using a reward to motivate them?" Abbot Murto peered over his wired-rimed glasses at the young squirrel as he asked the question.

"Don't you remember Abbot? Imfirmary Sister Kaali tried that once, offered 'em a chance to help bake a pie wid Friar Loag. I still say after that 'e was never the same again."

"Ahh yes, I remember now. That was when the Dibbuns opened the vegetable cupboards and threw them all about the kitchens, and one of those son's of Skipper even chewed up a section of a cupboard door, am I right?"

"Sure are," Hiikol snorted.

Abbot Murto thought for a few moments more before replying. "Well, at least try to use something positive for the Dibbuns. It might help them out later in the long run."

"Okay, Abbot. I'll try, but don't say I didn't warn you," Hiikol replied over his shoulder as he marched back over to the Dibbuns.

The Abbot mole chuckled when he heard the young black squirrel lecturing the Dibbuns about climbing over elders and Abbots.

* * *

After the visions and the tossing of stones from Frul, Zrunduul decided that the only way something was going to get done was to do it right away. He already saw that his hordebeasts were getting too lazy for their own good, and wouldn't be able to fight off an ant with the fat growing about their middles.

Kicking over a pot of boiling water in a helmet, the black fox extinguished the fire underneath with a soft _hiss_ and yelled, "Alright, you lazy scab-sided mud-brains! It's high time we moved on! Yer gettin' too fat to do anything except sleep and argue! Pack up your gear and we'll move out when the sun reaches high noon!"

High noon was in five minutes, so the vermin horde would have to work quickly to get everything packed away and ready for a long day of travelling. All knew better than to protest, for they would be left behind without question, for they knew that their leader was in total control of their lives and they could not live without his strong clawed-paw to rule under. At least that was what Zrunduul said about them.

None of them had the brains to even think on most of the things their leader said, everything was just from experience of getting your tail kicked out through your stomach if you didn't pay attention.

When high noon approached the old camp was completely void of life. The only signs that anything had been there were a sizzling pit of ashes, churned up earth and a lone weasel who refused to listen to a command.

The hunt for Redwall was on, and the vermin were vicious and fresh.

* * *

_Sorry about not updating, I'd completely forgotten about fanfiction and my stories throughout the summer. Hope this chapter will tickle your fancy (and make up for my absence)!_

_Zealak Silverdirk_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VII

The meal was finally finished, though Varc could still be heard in the mess slopping down the remains of the fish stew, so everybeast went back up on deck. The ship quested over waves with an ease that could not be matched. It responded well to any touch of the tiller and the sails billowed as the wind blew on.

Imaldu sniffed the seaspray deeply, enjoying the salt smell that was carried along with it. Ever since he had started on sailing with Krewdy, he had grown to like the sea even more. He was still not overly fond of the heights he had to climb when travelling up rope ladders to the mast, but it was tolerable.

"'Ey, Imaldu! How're ye enjoyin' our ship?" Tyreck called down to him from the rope ladders.

"It's quite nice, thankee sir!" the badger called back.

"None of the sir! Me name's Tyreck and that's final!" the mouse shouted back.

Imaldu nodded his immense head in understanding to the seafaring mouse. It wouldn't do to upset him.

"Ain't this a beauty, Imaldu? Best craft I've seen in seasons!" Krewdy stated as he came up behind the badger.

"Aye, it is good. It's so peaceful here, I feel like I could stay forever," Imaldu replied dreamily.

Krewdy snorted. "Well, you won't be sayin' that if the wind 'n' rain starts to roll out 'ere, does sumethin' terrible. The last one I was in two of our Goufs died, swept overboard and away down the briny," he wiped something from his eye after he finished.

Now it was Imaldu's turn to snort. "Getting all emotional on us, Krewdy? An' I thought shrews were hardy beasts."

"Well, we are!" Krewdy objected. "I was just wipin' some salt water that flew into me eye on the wind."

The shrew wouldn't give up without a fight, especially for his dignity. Imaldu figured this was the way with all shrews, hence their argumentative nature. He shrugged. "Whatever you say, mate."

Krewdy glanced at Imaldu suspiciously, an eyebrow raised. "Are ye mockin' me?"

"No, no. I wouldn't dream of it," the badger replied, trying to contain his laughter. He could tell the shrew was just itching for a fight.

* * *

As noon approached a small land mass appeared slightly to the north. Curious, Imaldu called up to Tyreck in the crow's nest. "Are we heading to that island, or are we sailing past it?"

Glancing down at him, Tyreck answered in a dismal tone. "No, never. Creatures far too ruthless and despicable live there. Ain't fit for a young beast to see."

"Vermin?"

"Aye, mate. Scores of the blaggards. Mutineers and cutthroats mostly."

Imaldu nodded his great striped head and strode the ship's deck, though he was still getting used to the pitch and swell of the waves. As far as he could tell, there were not many badgers who would be crazy enough to travel in a ship. This thought helped cheer him, remembering his uncle Boar, who had sailed to find new land seasons ago.

Walking to the brass railings around the ship, the young badger watched the island as it began to disappear. Wait! There was something there. It- no, it was gone now. Squinting, Imaldu watched the distant shoreline. A small creature hopped and danced about on the sands, trying everything to be noticed by the vessel. It's efforts obviously failing, the beast dragged a chunk of driftwood into the sea and paddled frantically over.

Shouting at the top of his voice, Imaldu roared his message to the crew. "Ahoy, everybeast to the stern! Some creature out there's comin' in!"

Krewdy was the first to arrive. "What is it? Somebeast out there? Wonder what it is? D'you think it's vermin?" the shrew spouted his questions in a surprisingly short amount of time. When Imaldu did not answer, the Gouf beast looked over to his friend. His paw was pointing to the open water. Following the outstretched claw, Krewdy noticed the driftwood chunk.

"What is it, mates?" Tyreck asked as he rushed over to the duo.

"Somebeasts in the water out there, Tyreck. What should he do?"

"I say we leave the blighter there, you said yourself Tyreck that no bally decent creatures live there," Varc cut in before the mouse could reply.

"An' what makes you think I couldn't've been wrong about that, longears? We never went there because you were too scared," Tyreck flicked the hare's ear with a paw.

"Not true, sah!" Varc's ears turned red in his indignation. "I didn't want to go to that bally island over there because _you_ told us a rumour about it!"

"But you're still scared!" the mouse shot back, the petty argument was heating up, and a fight would soon follow if nothing was done.

"Shut your faces, both of you!" Imaldu bellowed, his temper aroused. "Or didn't you know? There's a creature out there, in the ocean, mind you, who needs our help!" the badger accentuated the last few words for effect.

The ship was silent for what seemed and age, then Tyreck yelled to the crew, "Our badger friend's right, mates! We shouldn't be arguin' 'mongst ourselves whilst there's somebeast in the briny, waitin' for rescue."

The mouse's words were almost a signal to everybeast aboard the _Fish Shack_. Four climbed down the rope ladder to Krewdy's vessel, and paddled out to the drowning animal. Six rushed to the kitchens to make a meal for the possibly starving beast, and the remainder pulled up one of the main sails to slow the progress of the ship.

It seemed that the small rescue boat had just left when it returned with a skinny, half-drowned vole with wide, tearful eyes, his smile seemed larger than his face could allow. As he was brought aboard, he shivered but spoke. "Oh, thank you _ever_ so much! I thought I was to die on that horrid island of vermin."

Tyreck elbowed Varc. "See, what'd I tell ya, mate?"

The old hogwife stepped forward with a beaker of barley and carrot broth for the stranger. Another beast wrapped a blanket around his soaking shoulders. The vole closed his eyes contentedly as he sipped gratefully on the soup. "Mmm... thank you, friends. This is delicous."

"Aw, t'weren't nothin'," the hogwife replied and grinned at the compliment. It wasn't everyday a half-starved vole came aboard to enjoy some cooking, after all.

"Tell us, mate. What's your name and how'd you end up on that island?" Tyreck asked as the vole finished off the steaming soup in one swift gulp.

"I am called Jirthked. I'm not sure how I ended up there, though. Perhaps it was from a slave vessel, 'tis too hazy to recall," Jirthked replied, wrapping the moistened cloak tighter about his small frame. He let the conversation wash over him, finally among friendly beasts at last.

* * *

Hiikol breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He wouldn't have to deal with any of those rowdy Dibbuns today, they were all out berry-picking. Even if they weren't the squirrel would've been too hot to do anything.

The summer heat affected everybeast in the Abbey, but it was far worse for him, though. His black fur collected the sun's heat close to his body, which made him very uncomfortable. But such was the life of a black squirrel. At least he wasn't the only squirrel who had to suffer in the heat.

He sat beneath the shade of a weeping willow by the pond, watching his younger brother frolic about in the pond shallows.

"Wee! Looka me, bruvva! I a fishy!" Trugwell called to his brother with evident joy.

"Aye, that you are Trugwell. Jus' don't go too deep or the bigger fishies will wanna play a game of "tag-and-you're-dinner".

Completely unaware of what his brother even meant by that, the baby charcoal-coloured squirrel leaped and pranced about in the shallows of the Abbey pond. It was a good day to be alive.

* * *

Zrunduul was in high good humour that day. His horde had made no complaints on their marching, and Hardsquint was finally gone. The black fox had never really cared for the creature in his horde, but he decided to keep the weasel as a later example of insubordinate creatures among the horde who must be dealt with. And, now that he was "resting" in the old clearing, Zrunduul had no more need to worry of the stupid weasel. At least that was one last beast to deal with.

'I wonder if there's any others of my horde who need a long rest?' he thought evilly to himself.

* * *

Frul was struggling at the back of the horde. She was hard pressed just to keep the stragglers of the group beside her. But, even this did not stop her from staying silent about her perdicament. Captain Zrunduul might need her as a seer, but levelled as a hordebeast, the old rat was unable to compare with hundreds of fighters. Besides, the black fox's hasty decisions might lead to her undoing. There was no telling what he could order his vermin to do if the mood struck him. 

The black fox looked back with barely a shift of his head, and seeing Frul, he nodded undetectably at two of his cronies who travelled directly behind him. He knew the old rat would give out eventually, so he had properly prepared for it.

The two stoats he had nodded to, their names Grubswipe and Hullsweep, filtered through the horde, stopping to let the others pass around them. Five or so minutes later the last straggler passed and Frul approached from their rear. The duo parted and, as the rat passed between them, they hoisted her up by her arms, so her footclaws where dangling off of the ground. The seer did not approve of the gesture, but she did not want to end up like Hardsquint. Frul hung like a tattered rag in the strong claws of the hordebeasts, knowing it was for the better.

* * *

_Yep, another chapter up, I'm so happy! I might get up to chapter ten by Christmas, maybe farther... but that's getting too far ahead of myself. Well, I hope you like this chapter, remember, I'm looking for all manner of help (but no flames) and thumbs up. _

Don't forget to check out my newly revised "Chapter 1" of this story.

Zealak Silverdirk


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter VIII 

Imaldu had been at sea for quite a time now. It was really only a fortnight, but to a former land creature like him, it felt like forever. He had only seen land when the crew had picked up the lone bank vole on a marooner's island. Who knew how he actually got there, let alone survived.

"I haven't been this long at sea in quite a while, to tell you the truth," Krewdy spoke up. He had undoubtedly seen the huge badger at the railing, hoping to glimpse even the tiniest land formation.

Imaldu's brows shot up with surprise. "Are you sure, Krewdy? I mean, you've been doing all this sailing for at least two seasons, haven't you?"

"Of course. But... I miss land. It feels as though I've never been on land before, I've been in this ole tub so long. The Goufs usually have stops on friendly isles."

"Then maybe you'll feel better knowing that land awaits you," Tyreck answered softly.

The two friends looked behind to see the aging mouse standing there, a smile playing on the corners of his lips. His paw was outstretched, pointing to where they had stopped looking. Both peered along it, and saw, with utter shock, the thinnest stretch of grey cliffs. Krewdy took a deep breath, he was so overcome by the sight. Imaldu could not think of anything else except that land was close, and his uncle was even closer.

"Y-you mean... we're finally... coming to the northen cliffs?" the shrew finally stuttered, ending the long silence.

The great badger was speechless. Although small, the cliffs beckoned like a light, urging him ever onward, closer to his new life. "Well, what are we waiting for?" he suddenly yelled. "Can't this old boat go any faster?"

"Of course, young 'un! _Fish Shack_ may be old, but 'er sails can still catch the wind!" Tyreck smiled. Apparently, Imaldu's mood was contagious. Soon, even the stolid Krewdy joined in. Laughing and jumping about; calling for full sail.

Soon, the entire crew aboard the merchant vessel grew giddy, cheering as each mile to the coast disappeared, until their delight could be felt in the waves and wind, which seemed to speed them onward, pushing them to land.

Imaldu looked to the approaching sands, and he sent a silent message. "I'm coming to find you, Uncle Boar."

oooooooooooooooo

"Hiikol! What in the name of the seasons are you doing?" Frieda, the Abbey Warrior called. Hiikol was her apprentice, though it was rare that there ever was an apprentice for any position. Usually, they didn't have a choice. But, the young squirrel was an acception. Or, rather, acceptional.

He had all the characteristics of a born warrior. Knowledge of weaponry, compassion, understanding, skill, and, the hardest thing that any creature could ever grasp, humility. He would never pass up a chance to play with the Dibbuns, even if he pretended the job was worse than ever, and he could never be heard to complain after washing the pots and pans. In fact, humility was the first lesson that Frieda had "bestowed" upon the training warrior.

"Just getting in some more sword practice, ma'am!" he called back, swinging the blade without missing a beat.

"By chopping firewood?" she asked, bemused.

"Of course. Somebody needs to keep the Abbey warm!" he answered over his shoulder.

"In the summer?"

"Some of the elders catch a chill pretty easy!"

He also had humour. Another unforgettable characteristic he possessed. He could turn the worst situation into little more than a few tears, or turn a mourning soul to the better of the world. It seemed that there was nothing the young creature could not do. But, there was one thing.

He could not bring himself to fight. At any time, even against a creature with more skill and weaponry than he. Perhaps his Redwall life had made him soft, like all the other creatures here who had not seen or experienced battle.

Frieda strolled away from the young squirrel. Perhaps someday, if a battle came to Redwall, Hiikol could be proven for everything he had trained for. The battle would probably be hard, and the effects would be long-lasting on his life, but it would show that he was able to defend his Abbey. Take care of the old and young unable to fight.

'Maybe someday he'll learn,' the battle-scarred mouse said to herself, though she really didn't think it would ever happen. Even the wisest and most worldly creature could never truly know the thoughts of another.

Hiikol brought the sword the late warrior Martin down, splintering the wood and snapping it clean through. Using the sword blade, he flipped the wood over, to see what damage he had reeked internally. Almost nothing was out of place. It was a clear cut, shavings still clinging to his sword edge.

"Maybe someday I will live up to the standard chosen for me. Maybe someday I will prove that I can defend my friends and elders of this Abbey. Maybe someday I'll..." he let the thought trail off. He would just disappoint himself in the end if he let the sentence run on any further.

The black squirrel knew that Frieda was expecting more from him, pushing him to fight, become what the Abbey so desperately needed. Maybe not now, but someday they would need a fresh warrior to keep the Abbey safe. Hiikol just didn't know if he was that creature.

ooooooooooooooooo

Zrunduul marched his entire horde hard that day, none were allowed to stop. The lucky ones were near the back, or around the middle, the easiest places not to be noticed. None of the guards were back there, all were at the front, so any creature could slow down and be at the end easily. Forest marching also made it easier for the back. While the front runners were struggling through brambles or cutting around thorns, the others could easily tramp over the strangled remains of plantation. Most were stopping for short rests or picking the few berries and roots they could find within a short radius.

Two such stragglers were lazing against a tree trunk, watching the horde plough onward through a pool of sucking mud. The mud was so powerful, that if a paw stepped in the wrong way, it was almost impossible to get back out again.

"Huh, glad we don't have to go through that lot, eh, Hidefowl?" a mangy weasel named Scratchpaw whispered to his companion.

"By the time they get through that mud we cud be sproutin' wings. Any other way around d'you think?" Hidefowl -another weasel- replied, his eyes never straying from the struggling and yelling beasts ahead of him.

"Hmm... we could just as easily circle around them and come back near the end in a short while, hopefully we won't be the first ahead, or Zrunduul'll be gittin' suspicious."

Hidefowl slowly nodded his approval, and the two set off into the forest, away from the scene of mud and flying turf. Hopefully they would not be the first out, it would spell death for the both of them.

ooooooooooooooooo

Hidefowl and Scratchpaw slunk through the dense forest of northen Mossflower. The dead leaves of last autumn rustled and cracked underpaw, and the wind sighed through the leaves and limbs of the trees. The sounds of their pawsteps was swallowed by the abundance of trees, giving the forest a feeling of eerie desertion.

"How far d'you think we 'ave to go to git to the others?" Scratchpaw asked, glancing nervously at the the trees and bushes, as though phantoms would leap out and devour him. The weasel was against travelling in small numbers, he always found that separation was easier that way.

When no reply came, Scratchpaw turned to look at his fellow weasel, but he was nowhere in sight. In a tiny, fear-laden voice, he called out in the woods, "'Ey, Hidefowl, where are you? Don't go trying to scare me by disappearing, will ye?"

A snap of twigs, almost like a signal sounded close by, and Scratchpaw took off like an arrow from a bow, caring neither for his lost companion or when he stumbled, just as long as he could keep running.

The sound of footfalls could be heard, chasing him through the trees, though unseen was the creature who made them.

Running for dear life, clinging to his last shreds of sanity and strength, the weasel bolted onward, until the trees began to thin and he could see the shapes of his troop walking onward. Unable to stop, he collapsed in a heap in front of Zrunduul sobbing uncontrollably and shaking like a leaf.

"What happened?" Zrunduul demanded. "How did you get here?"

"Me 'n' Hidefowl... we... took off to p-pass by... the mud... Hidefowl got lost and somethin'... somethin' was followin' me! I d-didn't st... op because I didn't... want to... DIE!" Scratchpaw babbled, breaking down in raucous sobs when he shouted the last word.

"Pick him and up and heft him along!" Zrunduul called to his guards, who had carried the seer not long back. The weasel was crying and dribbling as the horde passed, glad tears that he was not lost in the forest streaming down his face.

When the last clump of vermin passed, the unearthly silence descended upon the forest once again.

To be continued...

* * *

I haven't worked on this story for quite some time, and I'm still apprehensive about it. I may delete it soon, I don't know. I'll just have to see...

Hopefully I can salvage the ashes of this story and bring it to life again.

Zealak Silverdirk


End file.
